Shino Sushi + Kappo

While Ironside chases oyster-bar buzz in its warehouse, Shino sits on the edge of the neighborhood doing one thing uncommonly well: omakase-level fish quality without the theater. This is where locals who've tired of the passeggiata crowds come for nigiri that tastes like it was cut this morning—because it probably was. The Toro practically dissolves on your tongue, and rolls like the Toro Toro (a reviewer's emphatic 10/10) justify their $30 price tags by arriving overstuffed with fish that's noticeably fresher than what you'll find at conveyor-belt spots downtown.

The room feels deliberate in its simplicity—contemporary, minimal, peaceful enough that you can actually taste what you're eating instead of shouting over warehouse acoustics. Weeknight walk-ins succeed here (rare for quality sushi), though the kitchen dumps every course at once regardless of pacing, a flaw that's easier to forgive when the miso soup with clams arrives as unexpectedly excellent as reviewers claim.

Yasu, Robert, and Keith run the floor with the kind of familiarity that suggests they remember your last order, and Japanese beer on draft pairs better with fatty tuna than whatever Peroni you grabbed at the mercato. It's expensive, yes—but transparently so, the kind of place where "you get what you pay for" isn't an excuse but a mission statement.

Park near Waterfront Park and walk over; street parking on Ash is easier than navigating India Street's Saturday circus. Post-beach sushi works here if you've rinsed the sand off first. Date night, business lunch, or solo omakase—Shino doesn't bend its concept to fit the occasion. It just keeps cutting fish the right way.